Up in Smoke
by Cereal-Killa
Summary: Isn't it weird how you can manage to meet the most interesting people when you hit new lows? Duncan/Courtney
1. 1

**1-**

It's true what they say- the first time is the best time.

Or I guess I should say the first high is the best high. In my life time experience- which isn't much, but 23 years is enough for me to make a consensus- most things are better after you've tried it a few times. Riding a bike, sex, bacon. Bacon just gets better and better.

But anyway, the high. The first time you get high, like, it's... high. I mean hiiiiiiigh. Like, over the moon, across the galaxy, oh-my-fucking-lord-Pluto-you-should-be-a-real-plan et-because-you-are-chill-as-fuck-my-nigga far away. And it's that high you're gonna keep chasing and you aren't ever gonna get it back. You might get close, like, literally centimeters away and then you just can't reach it.

I don't really mind, because if we're being honest, that high was not my kind of high. But I can understand the feeling the day Gwen breaks up with me.

It's bad, I mean, as bad as it can be. She texts me during my rhetoric class at community college and I just sort of sit there and then I go home and I eat cheerio's and then I hit the skate park with Geoff and I'm inhaling around the joint and then we go to Dairy Queen and then I'm losing it.

I mean I'm losing it over a fucking Oreo Blizzard and I'm dying because shit this is embarrassing. Geoff just keeps eating his for a minute, and I can't blame him for not noticing because I mean seriously, dude is high and the munchies hit ya hard sometimes but damn. I wish someone would help me out; it sucks.

Because honestly, I have the right to cry at this point. I'm high and it's a bad high, like now instead of high I'm just so fucking low because do you know how bad it is to lose the girl you've been in love with since middle school? It sucks butthole, that's what, it's like getting your balls ripped off. Because I loved her and I'm thinking about that first high and I'm sure it applies to love too. The first love is the best love, and you're never gonna reach it again. I'm sure of it.

Geoff finishes his blizzard and looks up at me, and says, "Damn, your eyes are red, dude, put on some fucking sunglasses-" and I'm about to punch the shit out of him before the server who rang up our order comes up to us and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" She asks quietly.

"Uh." I say in between sobs, because at this point it's not making sense at all. Like why the hell am I crying? Oh yeah, I remember, because my life sucks ass. And then I can't remember why it sucks ass and then she's squeezing my shoulder.

"You look really bad." She sniffs and her nose wrinkles, her freckles wrinkling with it. "Oh my god, really? No wonder," She sighs, "No one completely sober can cry like that. Wait here," She mutters, before running off to the back. Geoff is still playing with his meal toy when she comes back with a few napkins and a cup. "The coffee here kind of sucks, but it's still good for getting you back to reality. Calms ya down." She wraps the napkins around the cup and then places it in between both of my shaking hands, making sure they have a good grip around the cup before letting go.

Her green eyes flash with uncertainty. "You guys can stay here for a little bit but I'm gonna need you to get out if any families come in, alright?" She doesn't give us a chance to answer before running back into the kitchen.

"Shit." I say quietly.

Yeah, maybe I'm just high. Doesn't change the fact that my dick is harder than a rock.


	2. 2

**2-**

But Gwen is gone so for the next few days so am I.

Utter despair haunts every waking moment and the deep siege of the underworld calls upon me from the very depths of my dark and torn soul.

AKA- I skip work and do shrooms. It's a tiring process, but it's healing, at least for me.

DJ comes over for a little bit of weed and ends up buying an ounce. Dude is shaky, I can't blame him for needing more than usual. Can't blame him at all.

With a fat pocket now I decide it's time to cheer myself up. The shrooms had worn off hours ago but the munchies are coming full force and goddamn do I want some ice cream.

As I try to tell myself that I'm not just coming back because that chick was super bangable, I'm reminded of how super bangable that chick was.

I order the ice cream and she's there, and she doesn't say anything to me. I want her too, but she doesn't.

* * *

_(a/n: I apologize in advance for the varying chapter length. I planned each one out not length wise, but what should happen each chapter. I'm not willing to add more things to the story that would just be unnecessary to add. Just wanted to explain myself :) Love you guys-Cereal)_


	3. 3

**3-**

So I come in the next day and I order something different.

Maybe she'll ask why I got something different. "Are you high all the time?" That's something she might ask. "Do you always have the munchies?" She could ask that too. Ask why I did things like that, why I liked to dip French fries in chocolate ice cream, why I smelled like an ashtray all the time.

I think she might ask that.

But she doesn't.

She doesn't ask anything and it's frustrating. I wait and wait and nothing. Not even a fucking glance some days.

And then she does. Two weeks later she sits down at my table and sets her chin in her right hand. "Have you ever died your hair?" She asks.

I stare at my blizzard for a minute before looking up, because honestly, I'm faded. Soooooo fucking faded. But I realize she's talking to me and I do that high thing, the one where I zoom in and focus on one thing, and right now that specific thing is this chick, the one I've been waiting to ask me a question. "Yeah," I say.

"What color?" She says quickly.

I hesitate but find I'm not as embarrassed as I usually am about the topic. "Green." Must be the THC.

A brow quirks. "Green?"

"Yeah," I say.

"I was thinking of dying my hair."

"Don't. Bad idea." For some reason, actual sentences are failing me so bad right now. Like, where the fuck did my mouth go? I dunno. "You'll get tired of it really quick."

"Mmm," She hums quietly, before taking my spoon from my hand and scooping a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She sets the utensil back on the table and walks away, and again, seriously, how many times is this chick gonna leave me with a boner?


	4. 4

**4-**

A week later I know she wants to fuck me.

There is no way she doesn't want to fuck me. She's licking her spoon seductively and asking me random questions and oh my god I wanna fuck her so bad.

"Excuse me?"

THC, really, you're killing me here. Motor functions must have turned off and I said it out loud. "You heard me." Whoa, go ahead, Mr. Bold Man.

Her eye brow twitches and I'm happy because I know exactly what's coming next.

Except I don't and I'm then on the floor in a puddle of my own blood. Ok, that's over exaggerating, but she does do enough to make my nose bleed.


	5. 5

**5-**

I come back again and I'm pretty sure she's not gonna say shit to me today, but she sits down just the same and stares at me, hard. Then she says, "Why were you crying? That first time."

And wow. Just wow. Because my high as fuck mind was prepared for anything but that.

"Um." I say.

She raises an eyebrow and I just shake my head. "It was stupid."

"We all cry over stupid stuff." She encourages.

"It was a girl."

She gives me a 'oh-that's-baaad' face, because honestly, it was bad. "That's pretty lame."

"Yeah, I know." I say into my ice cream. I don't really wanna eat it now and I pass it over toward her, and she heartily takes my spoon and begins devouring it.

I think that's the end of the conversation but she licks her spoon and frowns at me. "I've never cried over a guy before. But I've wanted to." She taps her fingers on the table. "She was probably ugly anyway."

"She's beautiful." I say, but it's not me being defensive. It's just a fact.

She smiles devilishly. "I meant on the inside," She quips before walking back to the kitchen.


	6. 6

**6-**

"Have you ever been gay?"

I nearly spit out my ice cream. "What the fuck?" I say.

She shrugs. "I have," she says, all fucking nonchalantly and all like whatever and what not, "I mean once I knew this girl, and she said she thought I was hot and I decided I'd be a lesbian for a night. It was in 10th grade and it doesn't really matter but I just always kind of thought everyone was a little bi-sexual."

"Um." I swear that is my word of the year.

"So I mean you're a little gay right?" She repeats.

I think about it and then I worry about it and then I say fuck it. "Once Geoff and I masturbated together. It was pretty gay."

"That doesn't sound too gay."

"He touched my wiener."

"Now that's gay!" She says proudly. "We're you high?"

"As usual."

"That's awesome!" She squeals. "I'm proud of you."

Honestly, I'm so lost.


End file.
